Prisoner of War
by Kladis
Summary: Although major conflicts between Demacia and Noxus have ended with the establishment of the League of Legends, the war between the two city-states continues silently through discreet operations. Contains mature and sexual themes. All intellectual properties belong to Riot Games
1. Chapter 1

_Where am I? Where is Valor? Why can't I move? Wait, is that rope around my wrists? No, rope does not feel cold, it must be metal. Why is it so hard to open my eyes? What is going on?  
><em>

Quinn painfully opens her eyes and looked around. She was sitting with her hands chained in rusty iron above her head, and her legs were tied together with rope. Quinn let out a muffled gasp, her mouth was gagged with cloth or something, she was not sure what exactly it was. The perpetrators certainly did a good job to make sure she wouldn't escape easily.

Valor was nowhere in sight, so Quinn was a little relieved that Valor most likely escaped. With that thought in mind, Quinn began to collect herself and adjust to the current situation.

The first thing Quinn noticed was her lack of armor. Quinn wore light armor, preferring agility over durability, but any sign of armor was gone. Quinn sighed, she only had her leather suit and her boots. She was alone in the room, at least her captors were not around.

Quinn searched the room or her equipment. Without much light, it was hard to see anything. After scanning the room for a good minute, Quinn gave up looking. Nothing. Not a single arrow bolt was found.

It was the first time Quinn got a good look at the dark room. A single ray of light shone in the room from a small cell-like window. The room itself was not large, and despite the lack of light, Quinn could clearly see the corners of the room. A table with two benches, on opposite side of the table, occupied a large portion of the room. There was another table, a smaller one that was at one of the far corners, but the lack of light prevented Quinn from distinguishing the objects on the table. On the far end of the room, there was a wooden door. Quinn looked up to see the post she was chained to, nothing special about the post either.

With nothing to do, Quinn tried to recall the chain of events that led to this predicament. Her head hurt a little, and her body was sore. Quinn was somewhat relieved that at least she didn't go down without a fight, but it annoyed her that she was caught in the first place. With difficulty, Quinn began to piece together the events that happened prior.

* * *

><p>The elite duo known as Demacia's Wings were undertaking a scouting mission for the king. Ever since the successful revival of the Noxus champion Sion, there were other reports of fallen Noxus soldiers being revived in the Noxus fortresses near the border between Noxus and Demacia. Although necromancy was looked down upon in the shining city-state of Demacia, the king had wisely decided to obtain information regarding the resurrection of Sion and ordered the Demacian magicians to look for a method to reverse this sorcery. However, Noxus is not a land for Demacians to tread lightly, countless lives have been sacrificed with no real gain during the conflict between the two city-states. Not to mention that Noxus fortresses are heavily fortified that even the most agile and cunning Demacian spies would have difficulty penetrating the defenses. This mission was dangerous, and required the utmost care. The king knew he had other matters to attend to, but this was also a pressing matter that would spiral out of control if it was not dealt with, thus failure was not an option.<p>

The king chose Quinn and Valor to undertake this mission. Quinn and Valor have proven themselves as one of the best, if not the best, scouts in Demacia. Having fought in the League of Legends, Quinn and Valor's battle experience was only matched by the other Demacian champions, certainly above veteran soldiers in the Demacian army. While other Demacian champions favored raw strength and gracefulness, Quinn and Valor preferred stealth, speed, and accuracy. There was no better choice, a letter to Quinn and Valor was promptly sent, and the mission to scout Noxus' fortress was given to the elite duo.

Quinn and Valor left Demacia the night they received the mission. She sent Valor flying into the skies to scout ahead, it was a routine that Quinn had devised so that Valor could warn her about incoming troops. Quinn had many missions where she would infiltrate the enemy lines, and this one was no different. Quinn had undertaken much more deadly missions than infiltrating a fortress. The night was still young, there was plenty of time to reach the Noxian borders unnoticed. Valor covered the skies and the potential threats, while Quinn covered the ground and disposed of the current threats. This was a near-perfect combination of tactics and strategy employed by the duo, which lead them to their fame.

The trekk to the Noxian border was a far one. Demacia was located far from Noxus, and the duo had to make frequent stops at outposts located along the path to Noxus. After several days, Quinn could sense the atmosphere change. The sky became darker, and the pungent smell of death and decay became stronger, noise of animals were mostly gone, and the land was soon devoid of vibrant vegetation.

As they approached the Noxian borders, Quinn began to feel uneasy. While this mission was light compared to several of her recent missions, Quinn could not help but wonder if her luck had run out. Ever since her rise to fame, Noxus's security had become tighter and tighter around their borders. Although Quinn was used to jumping between Noxus and Demacia while undetected, she could not shake off the uneasiness that maybe she would not succeed.

The feeling was quickly replaced by a surge of confidence when Quinn heard Valor's screech. To anyone else, it would sound like a random bird at night, but this was a special signal known only to Quinn alone. This was Valor's sign that no immediate threats were incoming for at least a mile away. Quinn began to build confidence, it would be a quick and easy mission. She would cross the border, sneak like she did to the nearest Noxian fortress, take note of their activities, and sneak back out.

Something was not right. This was too easy, in fact, this was reminiscent of Quinn's first infiltration. On her subsequent trips, Quinn had encountered Noxus patrols, and even had to dispose an armed scout party by herself. The security on the borders seemed more lax, maybe her luck was still holding strong and the patrol had already gone by. It was entirely possible that Quinn simply arrived at a good time, after all, the Noxus border is quite long, and it was unreasonable to keep watch every inch of the border.

Quinn spotted a sizeable growth of vegetation. This would be the last bush before she would cross the border and look for another place to hide. She took a deep breath, steadied her breathing, and readied herself for the mission.

It was then that Quinn felt a blunt weapon collide with the back of her head. Everything was fading away, Quinn could feel her strength dissipating. She collapsed on the ground, turned herself, and counted at least three hooded figures. She tried to raise her arm with the crossbow, but lacked the strength to keep her arm steady. Her arms both dropped, and the crossbow fell out of her hands. Before long, her eyes closed, and her consciousness faded.


	2. Chapter 2

At that time, Quinn was semi-conscious. She could hear jumbles of voices but she could not understand the conversation. She could feel herself being dragged across rugged terrain, before finally being dumped on a moving platform. She remembers moving her arms and legs in a random manner, trying to fend off the hands that held her. She vaguely remembers losing control over her limbs.

Quinn does not remember hearing Valor's cry, nor does she remember her own actions. At last, she lost consciousness again, and woke in this room.

* * *

><p>As she recalled the events, Quinn felt ashamed of herself. How could she be caught so easily. And in such a disgracing manner. She was already starting to imagine what the Noxian interrogators would do, it was a rumor that Noxians use cruel methods to force information out of spies. Now she was about to experience if the rumors were true.<p>

Quinn felt a bit of strength coming back. She tried to wriggle out of her chains, but it was no use. The rusty iron was too dense, and she didn't have enough strength yet. Her legs were tightly bound near her knees and ankles, but she could at least stretch them.

Quinn felt nauseous. The pain at the back of her head was fading a little, but it still hurt. None of that seemed to matter. She has a mission, she is in a predicament, and she needed to get out.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and to her horror, she managed to make out the shape and outline of a long whip laying on one of the tables. There were several objects of various lengths and thickness, but the whip's shape and outline was unmistakable. Quinn began to panic, she needed to free herself, and she needed to free herself fast. With her current strength, it was an impossible feat. Despite her wriggling, she only managed to spent the little strength she had, and tire herself out.

Quinn felt miserable. Valor, her trusted companion, was nowhere to be found. She only prayed Valor had gone to get help.

Another thought crossed her mind; this was clearly an act of war, any spying on any nations was forbidden, as disputes would be settled in a civil manner through the League of Legend matches held by the Institute of War. This was an act of treason, and even as a champion, Quinn was not exempt from spying. She trusted her king to do the right thing, but would the king send help, or forsake her. Both seemed like the right decision, although Quinn preferred the latter.

She began to despair, even if Valor had gone to the capital and informed the king of her situation, who in their right mind would lead a mission to break her free.

_No, I cannot think like that. There is always hope. I am a champion, I have the ability to break out of any restraints. Even though I don't have my armor and weapons, even if Valor is not with me, I can still find my way out. I just have to be patient. I have to be smart. I need to assess my condition and the environment around me, like I always do. I need to stay calm._

Suddenly, there was a clicking sound coming from the door. Quinn tensed up and accidentally let out a muffled squeak. She could hear voices on the other side, as well as the sound of metal hitting metal.

The door began to open inwards, Quinn could see light seeping into the room. This was no natural light, this was a torch. There was no light coming from outside the door either. It only took moments before Quinn saw two hooded figures enter the room, one man was average size, but the other man, holding the torch, was a giant. This man was not as big as Sion, but Quinn could feel the same intimidation of being shadowed by a large being.

The large man moved forward while the other man walked towards the tables. The large man leaned forward, brought his torch to his face, and Quinn let out a quick yelp. This man's face was scarred and disfigured, he doesn't seem to have a nose, and half his face is in shadows. The man moved closer, to a point where Quinn could feel his breadth. Her heart started beating faster and faster, she tensed up. Quinn brought her legs closer in a defensive manner to shield her body as much as she could. The large man starred at her for several more seconds, until he stood up again and let out a deep bellow.

"Well look who's awake now! We've got a long night ahead, sweetie."


	3. Chapter 3

"Let's start with some simple questions. Just to warm up." The man sitting at the table stood up and walked towards Quinn. The large man moved away and put the torch on a torch holder on the wall.

"My name is Ramin, and I'm your advisor. The large man over there, he's my assistant and he's called Sisk. We're not here to punish you, we just need you to answer some questions. When you're done, we'll let you go. See? It's as simple as that. It'll only take a few minutes, and if you cooperate, we'll let you out even sooner. How's that for a deal?"

Ramin motioned Sisk to bring him a chair, which Sisk proceeded to do. Sisk then stood by the door, and waited. Quinn was feeling a little less nauseous and less intimidated now that Sisk was no longer in her face. She shifted her position a little. Ramin gave off a much nicer vibe than Sisk, but Quinn knew better. No Noxian was to be trusted in any circumstances. Despite Ramin's offer, Quinn would have no choice but to refuse to answer. She simply stared back intensely.

Ramin must have sensed her unwillingness to cooperate, since he sighed, and stood up, walked towards Sisk, and whispered something. Sisk nodded, opened the door, and left the room.

When Sisk left, it was as if Quinn's body became lighter. She did not notice how much pressure Sisk gave off due to his immense size. Ramin approached Quinn again, this time she could see him more clearly. He was a middle-aged man with sharp features, not nearly as many scars as Sisk. Quinn felt a little more comfortable.

"I know you're a little shy, so I asked Sisk to leave the room so we can have some privacy. Don't be shy now, it's just me. I'll ask you some simple questions, then we'll move on to some more complicated ones, we'll take a break, we can chat a little, and by no time, you'll be free. If that doesn't sound good, then I don't know what does."

Ramin put on the act of an advisor who only wanted the best for his client. Again, Quinn was not going to comply. After a few minutes, Ramin's expression changed, his face turned into a scowl. Ramin stood up aruptly and began walking towards the tables with the various objects.

Quinn became nervous. She could easily guess what was coming next. Even though Quinn was no stranger to pain, she still hated the feeling. Except this time, she would be helpless.

Her arms began to tremble as Ramin, who seemed to take his time, hovered his hand over the various objects on the table. Ramin would stop his hand above each tool for several seconds, and look back to Quinn, just to see her expression. This was humiliation, this is was the only torture that countless years of training could not prepare her. Ramin seemed to savor each moment. Quinn eyed his every movement.

Ramin's hand hovered above the whip, and Quinn squeaked. Ramin looked back, a little surprised, then put on a nasty smile. This was going to be fun for him. Ramin reached for the whip, grabbed the handle, folded the whip, and walked towards the helpless Quinn. From the time he took wrapping the whip, Quinn guessed the whip was at least several feet long.

Once again, Quinn brought her bound legs close to her body. She struggled to move her arms, but to no avail, the rusty iron would not break. Her heart rate quickened as she braced herself for the incoming lash.

Ramin moved slowly towards Quinn. Each step he took resonated louder than the previous step. Despite his size, Ramin seemed more menacing than Sisk. In those few moment, Quinn had learned to fear Ramin, fear what he was capable.

Ramin leaned in close, and, using the folded whip, gently brushed it against Quinn's cheek. Ramin used the folded whip to lift up Quinn's chin so he can get a better look at her. All this time, Quinn was trembling. Sweat was dripping down the side of her head. Even though Ramin had not swung the whip, Quinn's mind was already bracing itself for the incoming lash. The fact that the whip was not swung made each passing moment more painful, as if the whiplash will bring more pain with each passing moment that it was not swung.

_No, I cannot give in! I am a Demacian champion, I have my pride and dignity. This man can bring me low, but he cannot break me! I have endured worse pain from much stronger opponents. I may be in a bind, but I am no stranger to pain. I must remain calm, and not give him the satisfaction that he seeks in my discomfort._

With that, Quinn forced herself to relax. Her heart rate slowed, and her body stopped trembling. Ramin seemed startled, this was not the reaction he was hoping for. He was puzzled as to how this woman suddenly became calm, as if she no longer feared him.

With all her strength, Quinn launched her body forward, and bashed her forehead against Ramin's nose. The chains and her bound legs limited her movement, and she quickly collapsed to the ground. She heard a crack, and knew that the nose was broken. Ramin was sent tumbling backwards. He let go of the whip, and brought both hands to cover his nose. The door slammed open, and Sisk rushed into the room. He saw Ramin on the floor, and Quinn smirking despite her gag.

With a roar, he grabbed a bench with both hands, dragged the bench across the room, trudging pass Ramin, who was still holding his nose, and prepared to swing at Quinn. Bracing herself for incoming pain, Quinn closed her eyes, turned her head away, and hoped it would pass quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

"Stop. Do not swing. I will take care of this." Ramin struggled to sit up, obviously a little dazed.

"I will take care of this woman, she still has some fight left. I love prisoners who resist. Pass me the whip. Let's get started."

Sisk picked up the whip and handed it to Ramin, who stood up and approached Quinn. His gaze was fixed on the helpless ranger, as he shook his arm around, getting the whip to make snake-like patterns on the ground. Slowly, Ramin approached Quinn until they were no more than a few feet away from each other.

"If you're not going to talk, then I guess I have no choice. I have given you an option, and I have clearly received your refusal to cooperate. Now I can safely report to my superior that the information will be safely extracted."

Quinn met Ramin's stare with as much courage she could muster. This time, there would be no escaping the pain.

* * *

><p>Ramin's whip slashed the air, violently passing by Quinn's body, missing her by a hair. Ramin's snapped his wrist back, and his whip cracked loudly. This was a standard practice to miss the first one, so that the prisoner will fear the subsequent hits.<p>

Ramin did not miss his second attempt, and his whip cracked just as loudly as his first swing. Quinn howled through her gag, as the whip hit across her thigh the pain was near-unbearable. Her dark blue leather suit did not tear, but she could feel a brand new red mark under her suit.

_I can't do this. I can't do this. This hurts. This hurts._

Ramin was not about to stop. His third swing proved just as painful as his second swing. This time, the whip slashed across Quinn's stomach, tearing a gash in her suit. A red mark could be seen.

_This hurts! This hurts!_

Quinn could not hold back tears, and trembled in between each swing. Ramin was taking pleasure in this. He prepared a fourth swing, and aimed Quinn's stomach again. He connected his swing, and Quinn yelped in pain once more. If it were not for the gag, Quinn may have bit off her tongue trying to condense the pain.

Ramin prepared his fifth swing. Unable to bear another swing at her stomach, Quinn brought her legs as close as possible. Ramin swung, but only connected with her knees. The pain on her stomach dulled a little, replaced by pain on her knees, which was much more bearable. Pain seemed to be the only thing on Quinn's mind, she could not think. She could not remember her pride, her dignity, as a champion and as a Demacian. This was the first time she was subjugated to this pain, it felt quite different on Summoner's Rift. It could be that fighting with honor dulled the pain, but there was no honor in this interrogation. She would have to endure for as long as she can.

The pain on her knees allowed her several seconds to collect herself. She was a champion, she was tough, she was durable, though not impervious to pain. But she was a champion, and champions transcend the limits of normal humans. She has a stable current state of mind, an rapid thought process, and lightning fast decision making. Quinn forced herself to calm down, trying to forget the pain, the humiliation, and remember her mission.

_This hurts! But I can't give up. I haven't finished my mission. I will not go back to Demacia empty handed. This is nothing compared to Ezreal's mystic shot, if I can take mystic shot, I can take this man's whip. _

This thought gave her a little comfort, and let her remember her combat training. Quinn was built for someone her age, and she trains relentlessly to perfect her skills. Naturally, she would know how to deal with pain in the most efficient manner, to keep her stance and conserve her strength. Quinn started to predict where Ramin would swing, and tightened the muscles in that area. Before, she was scared of the pain, but now pain was just a slight annoyance.

Ramin noticed her change in composure. This was the first time he interrogated a champion, and although he did not expect to extract information so soon, this was proving to be difficult. Ramin continued to swing, but with each blow, Quinn did not seem to notice the pain. This angered Ramin, he felt like he was being mocked. He swung harder, and faster. With each swing, Quinn's leather suit tearing, exposing her bare skin. Little by little, the bits and pieces of her suit fell off, and as more skin was exposed, Ramin sought to whip harder. His task became increasingly difficult when Quinn began to move around, shifting her body to protect her exposed body, and using her legs as shield.

All this time, Sisk watched quietly. Not a bit of emotion showed on the man's face, as Quinn was whipped over and over and over. Sisk had witnessed Ramin go crazy too many times, but Sisk knew better than to interrupt the crazed interrogator during his work. Ramin was a professional, he knew the ins and outs of the human body. However, this was certainly the first time that Sisk and Ramin had encountered a champion.

After a little more than half an hour, Sisk began to notice Ramin's ragged breathing. Ramin's whip was still hitting Quinn, but his blows felt shallow. Compared to his initial swings, Ramin's current swings were lacking in strength. It appears that fatigue had taken over. Ramin was so tired that his last swing completely missed his mark. Quinn on the other hand, looked in better condition than before, as if Ramin's whip had only renewed her confidence.

"Had enough?" Ramin panted. "I'm going to remove your gag, and you can tell everything. Then the whipping will stop, and I'll let you go. Sounds good? Yeah, I bet that sounds good."

Ramin removed Quinn's gagged. The Demacian whispered something, but Ramin didn't hear it, so he leaned in. Quinn took this opportunity to launch her best attempt at imitating Kog'Maw caustic spittle, at Ramin's face. Ramin stumbled backwards, in disgust, and quickly tried to wipe his face with his sleeve.

"Not bad for a Noxian." Quinn retorted. "But I know this boy who's about half my size, a good head shorter, and he hits harder without using his hands. In fact, your swings started to tickle near the end." Quinn gave Ramin an almost innocent smile, as if she was playfully scolding the interrogator.

Ramin was infuriated, he walked up to Quinn, and backhand slapped hard her across the cheeks. Quinn did not seem bothered, she slowly turned her head to face Ramin. Once again, Quinn launched herself and headbutted Ramin. It was at that point that Sisk stood up, and grabbed the bench.

Ramin held up his hand, his nose bleeding. He motioned towards the table, and Sisk put down the bench to retrieve what looked like a syringe. Quinn could not tell the contents of the syringe, but she felt like it wasn't something that was going to help her ease the pain.

Ramin took the syringe, and without any care, shove the syringe into Quinn's arm. The brutality surprised Quinn, and she gave a quick yelp.

Only moments passed and Quinn felt her eyes close. Her strength was leaving, her limbs felt sluggish, and she felt tired. The last thing that she saw was Ramin walking to Sisk and discussing something. She saw Ramin approach her, faintly distinguished his words, before losing consciousness.

"We'll see who gets the last laugh." Ramin whispered with vicious intent.


End file.
